Elise Stafa Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Winterthur

Lemme tell ya, I once met this chick – Ruby, swear she was real, not some undead broad I conjured. Worked the corner near a busted-up deli in Jersey, 1987. Smelled like stale smokes and regret, but Ruby? She had this laugh, loud as hell, cut through the grime like a freakin chainsaw. Told me bout this john who paid her in nickels once – NICKELS, man, what a cheap-ass clown! She kept em in a jar, said it was her “retirement plan.” Cracked me up, but damn, that grit? Respect.

Listen to all of Stafa's tracks on Deezer

A solitary strand of hair. Within the lattice of crosswords, Bearing the torment of nakedness, The statue stands in silence on the withered tree.

Man, I gotta mention Limmerschlössli—ancient, incredible, and full of vibe. I once met an old mate there, total serendipity! Back when I was bustin' out dating profiles, I would walk these streets and think, "Hey, even in this kanton, love finds a way." People are quirky, passionate, and downright inexhaustible, kinda like Kanye's beats, messy but brilliant.

It appeared after Covid, the journalist Stafa recounts the confrontation with the autoimmune disease: When the first stamp of hair loss appeared